


one of those days

by Dresupi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk (2008)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Awkward Flirting, Banter, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Ficlet Collection, First Kiss, Fluff, Happy Ending, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Meet-Cute, New Year's Eve, One Shot Collection, Orgasm Delay, Pre-Relationship, Restraints, Shorts, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2019-09-13 14:32:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16894410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: A collection of HulkEye short fics I've been prompted. Various ratings and subject matter.The first chapter is the table of contents.I will mark explicit shorts with an *





	1. Table of Contents

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rpepperpot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rpepperpot/gifts).



1.  Table of Contents

2.  “[Who are you, and what are you doing in my kitchen?”  for rpepperpot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16894410/chapters/39683247#workskin)

3.  '[Netflix and actually chill' for rpepperpot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16894410/chapters/39683286#workskin)

4.   ***** '[Restraints; Orgasm Delay' for rpepperpot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16894410/chapters/39683322#workskin)

5.  '[Smallest thing Known to Man' for rpepperpot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16894410/chapters/39683382#workskin)

6.  '[New Year's Eve Kiss' for anon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16894410/chapters/39683451#workskin)

7.  '[You've Really Got a Hold on Me' for anon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16894410/chapters/39683490#workskin)

8.  '[Thank Goodness You're Here!' for rpepperpot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16894410/chapters/39683505#workskin)

9.  '[Playing with hair' for rpepperpot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16894410/chapters/39683532#workskin)

10.  '[Hurt/Comfort' for rpepperpot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16894410/chapters/44090137)


	2. “Who are you, and what are you doing in my kitchen?” for rpepperpot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One Sentence Prompts 2016
> 
> Meet-Cute

“I can explain…” Bruce said, holding his hands out in front of him.  “My name is…Bruce and I fell on your balcony…and your window was open.”  

Clint nodded, scratching his head.  “Why did you fall on my balcony?”  

“There might be someone after me.”  Bruce flinched like Clint might throw him out the open window or something.  

Clint nodded again.  “Cool…” he jerked his head over his shoulder.  “Bedroom’s down the hall, go hide in there somewhere and I’ll get rid of them.” 

 


	3. 'Netflix and actually chill' for rpepperpot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentines Prompts 2017
> 
> Fluff, Established Relationship

Bruce rubbed Clint’s feet, which had been unceremoniously dumped in his lap the second the latter had ambled out of the bathroom after his shower.  “Can we watch ‘Dog Cops’?  I’m almost caught up.”  

“You aren’t caught up yet?” Bruce asked, smirking as Clint reached for the remote control.  

“Don’t tell me what happens, okay? I haven’t had it spoiled and I don’t want it to happen now…”  

“Tony spoiled it for me…” Bruce admitted.  “And then I spoiled Game of Thrones for him.”  

“Dude that’s cold…” Clint said, leaning back on the couch.  “I love it. You’re awesome.” 

 


	4. *'Restraints; Orgasm Delay' for rpepperpot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut Prompts 2017
> 
> Smut, Restraints, Blow Jobs, Orgasm Delay

Bruce’s head fell back, a deep moan reverberating around Clint’s bedroom.  His hands flexed in the soft leather cuffs.  

Clint released him with a soft pop, running his tongue around the head of his cock, his hand moving smoothly up and down the shaft.  He licked his swollen lips and smirked up at Bruce, twisting his wrist and making him jerk.  

“So does this thing turn green when you’re close?”  

Bruce chuckled, shaking his head.  “Not to my knowledge…”  

“You gotta tell me then…” he replied, winking before ducking his head back down again.   

 


	5. "The Smallest Thing Known to Man' for rpepperpot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song prompts 2016
> 
> Song is 'The Smallest Thing Known To Man' by Lorne Elliot
> 
> Neighbors, Banter, Humor

Clint grumbled as he shut off the lukewarm water in his shower.  Shampoo still in his hair.  He yanked the towel off the rack and wrapped it around his waist. Water was too cold. Things…tended to shrink in cold water.

The thrilling beats of “Only Time” weren’t helping in the slightest.

He stormed out into his living room and then into the hall and over to the next apartment to bang on his neighbor’s front door.  

He was just about sick of living here.  The plumbing was futzing ridiculous. Some apartments shared a hot water heater, some had two.  It was mind boggling.  He was one of the lucky sons-of-bitches who shared one with a neighboring apartment.

Which was why he was banging repeatedly on the door.  To ask the guy to kindly TURN off the hot water and TURN DOWN his Enya.  Because not only did they share a hot water heater, they shared very thin walls.  

The guy opened the door, frowning and half covered in shaving cream, a towel wrapped around his waist as well.  

“What?” he snapped, running a hand through the damp curls on top of his head.  

“Uh…” Clint faltered, for some reason he hadn’t expected to see him in a similar state of undress. Or with quite so much chest hair.  "I live next door.  Barton?“

“Okay?”  

“Could you please…maybe turn off the hot water so I could finish my shower?” he asked quietly, feeling a little sheepish due to their similar stages of undress and hygienic care.  Plus, it probably had to do with Rugged McChesthair’s dark brown eyes.  

The other man’s eyebrows raised.

“I mean…that’s what I came over to say, but I didn’t really expect…I’m…sorry…I just have to get to work.  I’m running late and–”  

“And that’s my fault? Is it my fault you stay up till 3 am playing really loud war video games?  Because sometimes, I think you might have been sent to punish me, so that would make sense in that case.”  

Clint was taken aback. He’d never even MET this guy before.

“Listen here…Bucko.”  

“Bruce. Banner.”

“Listen here, Bruce…I don’t think I’ve EVER met you before.  But I know that you listen to more Enya than any human person should. And I know that you use GRATUITOUS amounts of hot water, and I know that you apparently LISTEN through the walls when I play video games–”  

Bruce crossed his arms. “You hear my Enya.  I hear your Halo.”  

“It’s…not…Halo…it’s Gears of War.”  

The other man shrugged.

So Clint shrugged too.

“I’m gonna go finish my shave…”  

“Fuck you, I’m gonna finish my shower.”  

There was various arguing back and forth, and at some point, Clint was certain he threatened to put a hit on Enya’s life if she produced another album.  And Bruce threatened to call the pound on Lucky if he kept pissing in the hallway.  To which Clint responded with his plan to train Lucky to piss only on Bruce’s welcome mat.  

And somewhere around the sixth or seventh insult, they were so close to each other’s faces that he could count the guy’s eyelashes.  He had quite a few.  Framing those brown eyes of his.  

Suddenly they were on the other side of Bruce’s door and there was kissing happening.  And then spitting because of the shaving cream. But then Bruce wiped his face and there was kissing again.  

Towels were falling and Clint wasn’t really caring about the Enya, because it was covering up the sounds they were making and he wasn’t sure the other neighbors needed to hear this. Thin walls and all…it was probably just a little worse than Gears of War.

 


	6. 'New Year's Eve Kiss' for anon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Year's Eve Prompts 2015
> 
> New Year's Eve, Kissing, First Kiss

“Gimme a whiskey…on the rocks…make it double?” Clint asked the bartender Tony had hired.  He wasn’t really sure what to order, he usually just had beer.  But he needed something a little stiffer, because…fuck, he needed the liquid courage.

He glanced back over at the end of the bar, where Bruce was sitting, sipping at a lemon seltzer and looking like he wanted to make a run for it.  He hated parties.  Crowds. He looked as nervous as Clint felt and while he couldn’t begin to fathom why Bruce was here, he was really glad. Because…because…it felt like fate, not that Clint really believed in that kind of thing.  

But, he had been trying like hell to get the skinny physicist out of his brain, but Bruce was there to stay.  And no amount of bartering with whoever listened to prayers nowadays was going to make him budge.  And something had to give and that something was Clint’s resolve.  

He wasn’t entirely sure Bruce returned his feelings.  Some days he was certain.  Some days, those brown eyes bore directly into his soul and he could practically FEEL the frustration that mirrored his own.  And then others…the apparent indifference was crippling, and Clint would slink back with his tail between his legs, because he couldn’t fucking tell what way was up, what way was down, what the fuck was going on.  He just knew what he wanted.  Who he wanted.  

And tonight…tonight, WHO he wanted was going to know he was wanted.  Dammit.  

He knocked back the whiskey, hissing at the burn he wasn’t used to.  He felt instantly warm, though.  Nothing he couldn’t handle, but the warmth was comforting.  Like, maybe if he had to leave here cold and alone, at least the burn from the bourbon would get him safely home.  

The clock on the wall read 11:58, so it was now or never.  

He made his way down the bar, sights set on his goal.  He licked his lips preemptively, because he wasn’t sure if Bruce had kissed anyone recently, but he definitely didn’t want to do it with dry lips.  Or chapped ones.  

_Fuck…should have like…used chapstick or something.  Now they’re gonna be all scaly and gross and…_

He breathed deeply, pressing down the thoughts of inadequacy.  

It was Bruce.  Bruce, who laughed at his jokes.  Bruce, who always searched for his face the minute he changed back from the Other Guy.  Bruce, who stitched up his forehead and set that dislocated shoulder when he fell through the roof of that old building over in Wakanda.  Bruce, who always smelled faintly of curry and whatever the hell tea he drank.  Earl Grey. Like Captain Piccard.  

Even if his lips were scaly and gross, Bruce would at least let him down easy.  

Somehow, that thought wasn’t as comforting as the previous ones…

He stopped short, right beside the stool where Bruce was sitting.  He looked up at him questioningly.  

He wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to do it.  Not sure if he could put himself out there like this.  

Bruce took a sip of his seltzer, the moisture clinging to his top lip before his tongue swiped out to lick it off.  

And without another thought, he jumped.  Out into oncoming traffic.  Arms outstretched towards Bruce like he was a lifeline.  

“I don’t know how you feel about me…” Clint began, his gaze dropping down to his hands.  “But, I thought…maybe…if you were up for it…that you know…we could…at midnight…”  

“We could…what?” he asked.

_An out.  An out. He’s giving me an out.  Turning me down gently.  Giving me a way to save face.  Bless him. Bless him and fuck this hurts more than I thought it would—_

Clint faltered, “Uh…”

“I only ask because…” he swirled the contents of his glass.  “Because I’ve been burned in the past and I don’t want to make any incorrect assumptions…” he bit his bottom lip, “I just need to hear you say it,” he said quietly.

_!?_

“Can I…kiss you at midnight, Bruce?”  

Bruce smiled, a foreign action, by the looks of it.  He nodded, swallowed.  “I would enjoy that.”  

Elation.  Pure elation and happiness and a warmth that fucking blew the bourbon burn out of the fucking water.  And he almost missed the end of the countdown.  

**“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”** Everyone around them yelled and cheered, people paired off.  

And Bruce was still sitting in the stool.  

Clint leaned down, tilted his chin up and with more restraint than he thought possible, pressed his lips gently to Bruce’s.  His breath was hot, but his lips and mouth felt cold.  Tasted like lemon.  Fresh and clean, probably a million times better than what Clint’s mouth tasted like. So when the low rumble of a hum made its way to his ears, he groaned in response.  No way any of his daydreams could have prepared him for this.  He ended the kiss grudgingly, but he didn’t want Bruce to think he was a pig or anything.

He straightened, coughing slightly.  

“Couldn’t give me a chance to stand up?” Bruce quipped.  

Clint smiled crookedly, “Sorry…I panicked.”  

“Thought that was my job…”

He scrambled for something to say, anything…

Bruce pushed his glass away. “Come on,” he reached for Clint’s hand, which he gave immediately.  “It’s better when we’re both standing.”  He headed into the hall and towards the elevator, pulling him inside with him. Hands sliding up Clint’s chest and into his hair.  He leaned up to kiss him again as the doors closed.  Clint had to agree, it was way better when they were both standing.

 


	7. 'You've Really Got a Hold on Me' for anon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beatles Prompts 2016
> 
> Song is 'You've Really Got a Hold on Me'
> 
> Light Angst, Established Relationship, Happy Ending

Bruce sighed.  

“Don’t do that.  Don’t SIGH at me…” Clint crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall behind him.  

“I didn’t mean to,” he shrugged obstinately.  

“I’m just sayin’…you’ve been here in the lab every single night.  And I don’t have many nights left before I leave again…”  

“Right, so that means I should just drop everything because your time is worth more than mine?” Bruce asked, removing his glasses and wiping them on his shirt.  Even though he’d done it at least three times since Clint had showed up.  

“Not what I’m saying, Brucey…I’m just…I want to spend time with you.”

He sighed again, not really meaning to, but there it was.  And there Clint was…grimacing again.  

Not really how he wanted this conversation to go. He and Clint were apparently more alike than either wanted to admit. Both of them wanted to be right.  All the time.  Someone had to step back once in a while or this wasn’t going to work.  

Plus, if he was being honest, he’d take time with Clint over quadruple checking his own math any day of the week.

Bruce stuck his glasses in his pocket.  “I know…” he stood and rounded the desk.  “I know you do…” he slid his arms around Clint’s narrow waist and pulled him close, off the wall.  The archer kept his arms crossed though.  “I’ll put all this stuff on hold…nothing I can’t do tomorrow…” He turned to walk back to his desk.

Clint unfolded his arms, reaching for him, “Babe, don’t do that.  I’m sorry…I’m just being selfish. What you do is as important as what I do…I can just…stay here with you.”

As amusing as that picture was, Bruce knew they’d end up doing what they always ended up doing. And it was so much more comfortable in their bed than against a countertop.  

Bruce nodded, “It is…but YOU are more important to me than all of it…and as much as I hate to admit it, the thought of curling up with you on the couch is more tempting than hours of checking my own math…”  

Clint grinned rakishly, “Why don’t you let ME check your math?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“How do you make everything into an innuendo?”  

“It’s easy. It’s all in the intonation.  Now c’mere. I have more planned than just cuddling on the couch.”  

Bruce shut his laptop abruptly.  “Better get home, then…uh…” he blushed. “Time management is important…as is…um…”  

Clint reached for him, sliding his arm around his waist, “C’mon, babe…let’s go manage our time.”  

“Just to clarify, you know that I meant time management as innuendo, correct?”  

“Well, I didn’t think you wanted to coordinate our calendars…”

“So it was good?”  

Clint leaned over and pressed his lips to Bruce’s.  Ran his tongue over Bruce’s top lip until he made that needy sound that Clint seemed to love so much. “Everything you do is good.”    

 


	8. 'Thank Goodness You're Here!" for rpepperpot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trope Prompts 2017
> 
> Humor, Banter

Bruce eyed the crawl space above their heads.  “Did you just refer to that as an attic?”

“Bruce.  Do you want the red and green twinkly lights or not?”  Clint asked, pulling on a pair of gloves and a ski mask over his face.  

“I do…” he trailed off.  “But why are you wearing those?”  

“So I don’t get any insulation in my hair,” Clint said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.  

“Fine.  But after the holidays, we’re investing in a storage unit.” 

 


	9. 'Playing with hair' for rpepperpot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chill Prompts 2018
> 
> Pre-Relationship, Awkward Flirting

The film was  _Twister_.  

Bruce had seen it quite a few times.  Mostly when he’d gone through his meteorology kick in grad school, but it was still a solid movie.

And watching it with Clint was definitely a new experience.  Doing anything with Clint was inevitably chalked up as a new experience.

Sitting together on the couch in Clint’s living room.  With Clint’s arm draped across the back. Lucky’s head in Bruce’s lap.  All new experiences.  Even though it technically happened every week.  

Tingles ran up and down his spine as Clint’s hand moved tentatively nearer.  Fingertips brushed against the hair Bruce had sworn he was going to cut.  The hair that fell against the back of his neck in loose salt and pepper curls.  

He was sort of glad he didn’t cut it.  

If he had, he’d have robbed himself of yet another new experience.  

And this one was actually new, it didn’t just feel like it.   

 


	10. 'Hurt/Comfort' for rpepperpot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _****_
> 
> _**Dialogue Prompts 2019** _
> 
> _#C2 - “Get back in bed, you’re not healed yet!”_
> 
> Hurt/Comfort, Injury

“Get back in bed, you’re not healed yet!”

The command was spoken loudly, probably by someone under the impression that he had his hearing aides out or turned down.  Which was not the case at all.

Clint jumped, his hand tightening on the bar railing, which caused a very painful twinge in his shoulder. “Geez… Bruce… why… I put my aides back in…”

“Sorry… But you’re supposed to ask for help! I was just in the other room.” Bruce’s arm appeared immediately under Clint’s, helping him to his feet.

“I don’t want help getting to the toilet…” Clint said. “The second I do, I have to admit that I’m getting older and like hell I’m ever going to say that.”

“You fell off a building,” Bruce stated in that matter-of-fact tone he had.

“Still, though. Should be able to hobble to the bathroom on my own…” Clint grumbled. “Let me relieve myself in unadulterated agony, please.”

 


End file.
